The Dress Collector
by shego219
Summary: Anamaria had never owned a dress before. She would have to thank Jack.


The Dress Collector 

Summary: Anamaria had never owned a dress before. She would have to thank Jack.

Pairings: Jack/Anamaria, slight Will/Elizabeth

One-shot

It wasn't that she liked _wearing_ that stupid dress. She really just liked having it around to look at, to remind her of what it was, or had been a long time ago.

Anamaria, captain of the newly Christened Fire Ruby, was ready to retire to her cabin. It had already been a long day; fierce storms, choppy waters, no sight of sun… in other words, just perfect for her liking. It wasn't like they were risking getting off course. There was no predetermined destination, just wherever the wind would take them.

She had nothing to be worried about. Her best, most experienced sailors were out there now doing the job a crew twice their size would. Whoever took the wheel would be sure to keep it straight and true, and a weathered veteran of these seas always manned the crows' nest. And yet Anamaria found herself pacing. She couldn't say what exactly was bothering her. It never affected her that she had to worry alone, in private – she knew if the crew saw her they'd start to question her authority, let alone her sanity. Crazy women pirates were not regarded highly for obvious reasons. And of course, rumors about her relationship with a certain 'crazy' Captain would resurface…

_Jack_. Anamaria sat down at her desk in a huff. He wasn't even here and he was frustrating her to her wit's end! It seemed like she was always in the middle of some word association game these days - any and every one of her thoughts could be traced or linked to one of Jack Sparrow.

That's why she had the dress on her ship. A strange good-luck charm, given from one captain to another. Jack had (rather awkwardly) given it to her when they parted ways after she got her own ship. It wasn't hers originally, but it had always been on The Black Pearl and she had always secretly admired it. Likewise, she had secretly been jealous when she had seen that girl wearing it.

And now it was hers, and she was terrified of it. Anamaria decided she really was losing it. The way she kept it locked up in her cabin where no one else could see it was almost like admitting it scared her. She smiled sadly to herself. She had always wondered what Jack's real intentions were when he gave it to her, and if they were as simple as they seemed.

Cautiously, Anamaria crossed her cabin, the floor practically rolling underfoot. Either the sea was churning or some suppressed memory was surfacing, making her almost giddy. The wardrobe was on the far side of her room. Anamaria hesitated, waiting for a sign from the sea. None came, and so she opened it.

The dress was losing its luster, but Anamaria still swore it was as beautiful to her as the first time she'd spied it. The dark purple color was as gorgeous as ever, and just the shape of it, the details, beckoned her to try it on. She ran her fingers over the delicate seams and the lace trim.

Anamaria had never owned a dress before. She would have to thank Jack.

There was another dress deep in the back of the wardrobe. Anamaria knew it would never be hers, but just the same, it made her smile. So many stories surrounded it, and half the crew had begged her not to keep it when someone had the misfortune of dragging it aboard. They said it belonged to a widow who set to the seas in search of her husband. Her ghost supposedly haunts the ship that takes it in. In that case, Ana had told them, her arms were wide open. Logic ruled over (most) ghost tales in her mind – besides, she had already talked to the dress' owner, the 'widow' herself.

"Let them believe it," Elizabeth Turner said with a twinkle in her eye. Ana had sought her out to give her back the dress, but she refused. "The wedding worked out… a little differently," was all she said before declining. Ana could add it to her collection as another good-luck charm.

Anamaria leaned her head against her window, her thoughts drifting back to the rest of their conversation that sunny afternoon.

"_You're looking for him again, aren't you?" Elizabeth's gaze met hers._

_Ana scowled. "What are you talking about?"_

"_Jack. You like him don't you?" she inquired coyly, raising her glass to her lips._

_Anamaria had half a mind to leave right then. "You're daft," she replied, hoping to keep her embarrassment in check. Her pride, too, for that matter._

Elizabeth smiled. "Oh no, these things I know." She patted her obviously pregnant stomach absent-mindedly. Anamaria guessed her thoughts were with her husband again.

She had given Anamaria permission to wear her almost-wedding dress, if the occasion ever arose. Ana was adrift in thoughts of a wedding at sea when she heard shouting outside.

"Captain!" shouted a breathless sailor as he flung open her cabin door. "We're approaching a boat- "

"You mean a ship?" Anamaria inquired, jumping to the defensive. The first marauder to touch her precious Fire Ruby was as good as dead.

"No, a boat, a dingy," he wheezed. "It's a dreadfully small thing, and there's only one person aboard. Would you like to guess who?"

In the middle of a storm, in a tiny, water-logged excuse-for-a-boat… Ana rolled her eyes. "Jack Sparrow." She pushed her way past the sailor out onto the deck. "I have to see this for myself."

Lightning set the night ablaze as she marched across the deck and over to the rail. A group of six or so had assembled at the rail overlooking the boat, which was nearing a full sideways tilt by this point. Of course, Jack stood in the middle of it, dumping out buckets of water from his vessel as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Jack!" Anamaria shouted, struggling to be heard above the increasing winds. What did that fool think he was doing?

Jack looked around trying to identify the voice. When he caught sight of her, his face broke into a grin. "Anamaria," he hollered back, "we meet again, luv! Your ship's a beauty, quite impressive. I say darlin', would you mind throwin' me a rope or somethin'? It's getting a bit blustery down here!"

Everyone aboard turned to look at their captain, awaiting orders. She knew they all liked Jack, and they probably all guessed or knew she liked him back. Ana sighed. "All who have jobs to do, get back to 'em. Those of you who can be spared, throw Jack a rope or 'something' as he suggested."

A collective cheer went up among the by-standing crew. Anamaria looked over the rail just in time to see Jack ungracefully abandon ship and begin his swim towards The Fire Ruby. He stopped and looked over his shoulder just in time to see his sorry little craft get struck by lightning.

Anamaria winced. She was lucky she had two hidden luck charms because Jack was a walking curse himself. She was already regretting letting him aboard.

Jack Sparrow, you will be the death of me. 


End file.
